Walking home from class today I found my self craving a cigarette... my god that was the best cigarette I've ever tasted. I smoked two on the way home...

In one week I'll be in Mexico searching for jazz or sex or soup, as I always am only in a different venue through a different set of eyes... when I'm in mexico I'm a different man... just like when I am in Ypsi I am done with ann arbor and how when i return home I feel like a child... anyway, I'm always searching for jazz or sex or soup, searching for a little ginsberg mixed into the mediums through which we communicate...
but what have we found nick? a little bit a jazz, not enough sex, and far too much soup, but where is the substance? where is the me that stands apart through time? is it the child that wants to touch everything? is it the anger that bites back every time I'm offended (I'm always offended)? or is it the intellectual me that I am trying to become?
substance? I hate to bring up the honor and integrity argument but all this searching has got me wondering just what I've found... I don't have any integrity, just a few friends and a lot of moments, moments that I would mind being defined by... though I often have to wonder just which ones you remember... I wonder what they remember in mexico where I rocked out two months two years ago where I drank every day, where I ran arm in arm with a few friends and a million bottles... this time I won't have my girl... this time I won't have my friend... this time it will just be me and the mexicans reminscing, living it up, and trying to recreate the moments...
just where am I going? so much hasn't poored out of me in a while; I don't think I have any honor and I certainly don't have any integrity; I'm always searching for jazz or sex or soup and i'm never really doing anything with it...

BTW you guys fucking suck, I want some fucking comments... bastards!

just got pulled over for running a stop sign... I didn't even see the fucker... thank god I wasn't drinking... thank god I didn't hit anyone/anything...
I swear I am going to die on the side of some road... sleepy... Of all the dangerous things I've done in my life driving tired might be the worse...

I get so tired these days... or maybe I just have so much to do so late. So much ground to cover, so many places to go... there isn't even any rest when I just have to get up the next day... I need a vacation. Thank god I'm going to Mexico next week...

also, who wants to go to Springsteen with me on sunday? I've got two tickets and noone to go with as of yet... I was hoping to take a chick but unfortunately every attractive girl at EMU is married or engaged... I'm sure the ugly ones might want to go...

I think you can judge your friends by how they respond to what you create.

the dye is cast
the dice are rolled
i feel like shit
you look like gold...

I'm feeling a little literary this week... every so often I run across these 12 words, never for any particular reason and often nothing more than a part of someones signature. until a few minutes ago I didn't even know that they were but one poem in the middle of a movie, starring liv tyler of all people, written in 1996... I always liked the sound of them though...

I've been searching the web a lot more of late. Mostly for school... anyway, I stumbled across a website, located here, that displays paintings/drawings by children during the spanish civil war. One particular picture has graced my computer background for the last day or so; war is so simple to children: war equals death and sadness, peace equals moms, dads, and families... Me, I am older, wiser, than children so for some reason I feel removed from the blood and guts of it all and can pretend that some sort of search for reason may be derived from hours upon hours upon battlefield upon battlefield... sometimes the kid in me comes out, no matter how much I might try to keep it in... looking at those paintings really upset me...

children are essential... I don't really know what I meant when I wrote that 'children are essential', just that its true. I don't think you can ever lose the kid in you: I don't think you can ever let go of the base emotions and wonderment that allow us to see something as it is, and without the facade of reasons and excuses... We've all let go though... maybe I am rambling right now, maybe I am right on... we've all let go though... we've all allowed ourselves to move on day to day whilst bombs drop and people die... day in and day out, who wants to think about that? remember 9/12 when for one day everyone was nice to each other... people said the nicest things... hushed tones and pure sentiment... that was my most proudest moment, it was almost angelic, hell it was angelic... then one day later we declared war and closed our minds/hearts to all this sincerity...
maybe its me, maybe I am jaded... or maybe I'm right and we should all be a little nicer to each other...

a few moments later, after rereading - maybe I'll get something out of this, maybe I'll be a little nicer... sometimes I'm in such a hurry that I just don't listen or take the time to understand someone else's motives or feelings... maybe I'm not so empathetic. Especially to those around me. Fuck, I can sit for ten minutes talking to an acquaintance at work about thier life and actually help them out, but let Bob have a moment I don't like and watch me bust his balls...

tonight I went with the tried and true...
facing an important life decision I ingested a ton of drugs, surrounded myself with friends and a diversion, took in everything I could, and openly assessed my life...
now its five in the morning, the pills are wearing off, and the path has been laid before me: one way to walk, one way to freedom...
now I lay my self to sleep,
and tommorrow I begin to take school seriously once more...

I have two more semesters of hard work, two more. And I was worried that I wouldn't be able to finish, then I remembered that I do have the resources and the drive to complete what I started four years ago, no more whining no more complaining... simply doing...
thank god for drugs
thank god for friends
and thank god for my gift of self-realization...

"DREAMS"
Hold onto dreams
For if dreams die
Life is like a broken-winged
birdThat cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.
- Langston Hughes

ain't that the truth?
what are your dreams?
where do you wish you were?
where are you going
(with your long face pulling down)?
just what are my dreams,
and where do I wish I was?

Man, I forgot the best story from the wedding... so, Christine and I are talking, arms around each other, and her groom walks over. Christine says "hey greg you remember jesse right?", and I'm laughing saying of course he does (we've met some dozen of times). Well Greg doesn't recognize me and says "no. who's jesse" ... so christine reminds him of one time we all hung out and he replys "oh that was you, I didn't recognize you with all the weight you've gained".
I almost fell over laughing (all the while thinking of knocking the smirk right off his face: making a real joke, I'll show him...). I can't believe my restraint really...
I just walked away and told everyone that if you are jealous of me then you've got some real problems... It was pretty funny really.
I'd list some smart alec responses that came to mind, but we've seen how that goes...

just got home from the wedding... a few thoughts...
christine looked beautiful... sometimes I wish maybe... well the past is the past...
I made some new friends tonight. I was really in a good mood...
I was good to see so many old friends and be reminded of why I love them in the first place...
Christy is cool.
Nick and Dan are still my best friends... jackson isn't too bad though...
Scott's doing well for himself...
Manford being back means another friend in the vacinity...
basically it was just a good time, I had a few reservations about watching an ex get married but it wasn't too bad and everyone was in a good mood... I drank way too much wine: my head is thumping and I am hammered...
go lions.
jdon

I am going to die somewhere between Ann Arbor and Trenton... probably on sibley. I am going to lie there bleeding till morning passing in and out of consiousness...
today I must of dosed off a half dozen times. I just couldn't stay awake. It was the scariest fucking thing. One second you are driving, the next you are one lane over jerking your head back screaming fuck fuck fuck...
I've got to do something about my work situation. Coming home at two in the morning after an eleven hour shift is going to kill me...

"fuck needing anyone else"... and what does that say about me? We all need someone else, lest we become lonely... but I think we all need someone to work with too. Maybe there is an inherent human need to not only communicate, but to also create. To co-create...

fuck needing anyone else is a cry I'd rather not rally around... maybe I should work on my people skills, maybe I should be more sensitive to others needs, maybe I shouldn't jest about that which they are so serious, maybe I shouldn't be so serious...

but every time I do I feel as though I am dumbing down the universe. I have to make jokes, I have to be sarcastic; its in my nature to push people. To be my friend you've got to understand that...
but then again, most the people I meet, and consider friends, are not my friends but mere co-workers or contemoraries. And you just can't make fun of people who aren't your friends...

I was talking to my dad last night about my methods course, explaining what I would do if I failed and all that jazz... he asked why I couldn't pass... I didn't have the heart to be honest about the fact that I have very little drive to overcome a difficult opsticle; I'd much rather walk avert the nastiness and come from another angle... here, however, there is no other angle. There is only one way to a teacher degree in spanish and I have to pass this class...

Julie making fun of me down below, saying how I do suck, kind of woke me up too... and gives me something to post on my wall. It's not the assertion that I suck, its the assumption that I could not pass without her, or someone elses, help. fuck that. fuck needing anyone else... I guess I've got to get busy living or get busy dieing (again)...

alright, now that I've calmed down...
choosing spanish allows me to interact with a larger percentage of the population while introducing me to another culture (actually a ton of different cultures: see mexico: see spain: see el salvador: see them all play together). And in learning/communicating with another culture I gain perspective: in gaining perspective I become wise and I appreciate more...
In choosing to be a teacher I provide a public service. That is number one; in being a teacher I make noone's day worse and hopefully everyone's day better; I educate, but I also provide a postive rolemodel and friendship/mentorship. In teaching I am able to travel the summers, and thus gain more perspective.
Also, I intend to end up with some hot ass nerdy little teacher chick with glasses, who not only provides companionship but also is willing to put on the heels and get dirty... anyway, where was I going...
blah blah blah, teaching is a wonderful profession... but I do suck, and I mean suck at spanish, and my methods class is going to kill me, fucking kill me. I just lack the confidence to succeed in an intensive environment wherein I have to perform every week. I just don't have it in me... so I come home pissed/depressed (btw my healthy depression results in anger, but we'll get to that some other day)...
I come home depressed when I realize how smart I am at so many other things and how I'll never maximize them... unless I make it as some kind of casino consultant some day...
fuck. growing up and choosing your life is not easy...

it hit today as I was working with nick's dad that I should have picked a job that involves numbers; I am good at math, I am especially good at percentages and fractions... however I choose to be a spanish teacher and I can't even fucking speak spanish. I am an idiot, a fucking idiot, who will never excell at his job because he has failed to highlight his strengths...
welcome to poverty mr. donoghue... oh wait, I have been living here for years...

my god, is there anything more frustrating than michigan football. Those mother fuckers!!! Oh, those mother fuckers... every year we fail and its always the same... we are 0 for the last 5 season road openers...
fuck lloyd carr.
fuck this team.
fuck our special teams that fucks up continually. And while I am at it, fuck hiring your buddy (See mike debord) to run special teams when what you really need is a coach.
fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck FFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!
these guys drive me crazy. fucking crazy.
three runs inside the ten, are you fucking kidding me?
fumbled punts...
and the worst, the fucking worst. Is lloyd at the press conferance stating that we just needed to get the ball back with some time. Some time? some fucking time? so what you could throw for five when you need eight or maybe run up the middle some more...
this coach sucks. this team sucks.

The great STeve Young once said something I find rather pertinent at times like these: "every field goal you kick on the road brings you one step closer to loseing"... well we kicked five and you see what it got us...

just went skipping through bloggerland... ran into "i'm not anyone important to anyone.", thank god I don't feel like that...

I worked a ten year reunion wedding deal today at work. Everyone was over sixty and about to die, hell I think half of them were dead already. They couldn't walk, they couldn't talk, some of them had to feed each other, others had to speak for each other... it was all really sad. Personally I hope I die before I get old, or at least have some hip old lady to argue with on the porch. That wouldn't be too bad, but don't let me live on life support. Don't make me carry around an oxygen tank, and certainly don't answer questions directed to me. Imagine how that feels, unable to reply or defend yourself: unable to explain your self in the midst of a moment... I'd just sit there watching myself fail, moment after moment...

my dad probably needs a walker of some sort, maybe even a cane. Its not like he was like these people or anything, just that his foot is really fucked up and its tough to move. I never understood why he just wouldn't go out and get one simple little thing that could make his life so much easier... (I know this all sounds cliche, but it is how I feel)

I don't know. It must be tough to grow old... then again, at least I am important to someone (a lot of someones really...)... it would be worse to not matter to anyone than to grow old and have someone answer your questions for you; then at least your someones pet project/burden/reason to exist...

Radio Edit:

Simple people have simple plans and simple minds and simple agendas and simple feelings that are simply hurt if another simple man attacks their agenda (no matter how soft or absurdly)... so we must edit what we say to appease the simple idiots of this simple world...

I can't say what I want to, even if I am not serious...
I can't say what I want to, even if I'm just kidding...

little by little, little by little... those are the only words I know about five minutes into a run... little by little, little by little I'll learn to control my loose ends: little by little I will burn the extra pounds, each step is another level of my mind... I don't own my own mind, sometimes. Sometimes I give up, sometimes I have to walk, though most times I run again... and slowly but surely, little by little, all my angry thoughts that drove me at first become enlightened thoughts of a mind/body in motion...
sure I've been a little stagnant, but who hasn't?

(pull hands back from computer, wipe sweat off of head, breath as deep as you can... hold it... exhale everything evil...)

sorry about whomever's post I deleted... I certainly didn't mean too. I appreciate the response, though I would like to know who I am talking to...
love,
jdon

Whenever I walk into a room I assume that most people will like me and that I could talk to anyone I please... Whatever confidence problems most people have in sharing there oppinion I simply lack... though this is not how I always have felt. I can remember being intimidated in college classes and party situations, especially bar situations... Anywhere I was on unequal footing, or I should say percieved unequal footing. As I've grown older I've come to conquer each situation and find out how to work with it, from school to work, and party to pad...

however... I would like to work on talking to girls though, especially the random ones I could meet in bar situations. It seems like I can get along with anyone, sometimes. Then other times I see the girl, I see an opening and I just plain fail... I don't know what I am so intimidated of, but I certainly must over come these fears if I'd ever like to get laid again; I simply don't run into enough girls in everyday situations. The work girls are so young, the school girls (ypsi) are unattractive or insane (some are both), and most of my friends friends aren't all that interested...

lets go blue mother fuckers... and lets cover 13 points while we're at it...

"If you're having girl problems I feel bad for you son. I got ninety nine problems but a bitch ain't one..."
and its off to ann arbor tonight to celebrate jared's return... I'm pumped.
la pinche policia... la policia is out... out to ruin our weekends, so watch out for yourselves my friends... me, I ain't buyin' it and I ain't driving so fuck'em...
I have heard some of the most ridiculous stories lately. Leblanc got a ticket for going through a yellow light (not a red light, a fucking yellow light), Trombetta got one for tailgating (tailgating?), and my dad got one for corrective lenses and he's had the laser eye surgery... the shit kills me...
so, if you are out there this weekend and you are sober, make sure the cops pull you over and not the drunken friends of ours... It is your duty.

third times a charm... so we shall see...
I've had to uproot and change directions/homes so many times the last eight or nine years. I've lived in no less than twelve different places, not counting countless couches between moves. I've lived with no less than 38 seperate people (most liked me, a few didn't, one or two have no desire to ever talk to me again...). So many homes, so many different people. From downriver, to ann arbor, on to ypsi through mexico back to ypsi and downriver again...
It's hard to not see life as a cycle..
in moving on, from place to place, I've learned to embrace what little nostalga remains and couple it with the opportunistic angel of each and every new face: walk into a new house and you may just walk into a new person...
right now, leaving ypsi means escaping school, whether I am out of there or not... it also means escaping the grunge and grime of that place and the people I hung around with there... Moving in at BG's means a quieter home and a refreshment of old high school friends. but more importantly, figuratively at least, it means I am a step away from college and an inch closer to adulthood... not quite there but on the way...
night to dawn life remakes itself every day; get busy living or get busy dieing... they may sound cliche but its how I feel today...
I worked out today. first time in months...